Solitude: The Beginning of Madness Repost
by Ggunsailor
Summary: What does madness do to a man, especially a certain masked man?This is my Second Repost! Chapters Five & Six are UP!
1. Default Chapter

Solitude: the Beginning of Madness

By

Ggunsailor

Chapter One

Hey guys! Guess what? It's another Phantom phic. It's one starring our dear Erik from his POV. I thought of this when I got the special edition soundtrack.

Now, if you remember, at the Masquerade, they said that the Phantom had been gone for three months. What did he do during that time, besides finishing _Don Juan Triumphant_? How did he deal with the madness that started when he saw Christine and Raoul on the rooftop? Also, another thing: do you remember when he sings "That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood, has also denied me the joys of the flesh", and he reaches out to touch her, but she turns from him? And when she kisses him the second time and puts her hand on the disfigured side of his face, it's a lot more passionate, as if they've kissed like that before? Well, I thought, 'What if he hadn't been "denied the joys of the flesh"? Huh? You get what I'm sayin'? I hope to put those questions, and my own, to rest with this story. I also want to reveal his tender, passionate, and sensual side. I ordered PHANTOM by Susan Kay (I definitely recommend this book), and I'm going to use that for inspiration for this story. I'll try to show his tortured, insane side as well.

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom. Gerard Butler…that's different! J

Note: Based on the movie. This story has definite Raoul-bashing, so if you're a Raoul lover, STOP READING THIS STORY! But if you're an Erik and Christine lover, READ ON, my friend, READ ON!

Rated M, for sexual scenes, content, and references. If you're underage, please don't read this story, or your parents might send me a threatening e-mail! L

Feedback: yes please! Good reviews, bad ones, ideas, flames send to

April 1882

Taken from papers and journal found in Phantom's lair by mob on night of chandelier crash. Said papers and journal now in possession of the Viscountess de Chagny.

"You will curse

The day you did not do

All that the Phantom asked of

You!"

I roared out my threat into the snowy night. I would have my revenge, no matter what it took.

She had betrayed me! Thanks to that damned Viscount bringing up childhood memories, wooing her with sickeningly sweet words, he had turned against me.

Was it not I who nurtured her talents? Was it not I who gave her a voice to rival those angels in heaven? I stood there for who knows how long, until my rage had simmered into anger. Then, I climbed down from the statue and strode into the opera house.

I could hear the strains of the orchestra, and the voice of Christine. Apparently, the audience had calmed down enough for the show to go on.

Oh, well.

One good thing had come of this; that drunken lecher Buquet was gone for good; I had made sure of that. And it would be a while before Carlotta would be seen at the Opera Populaire again.

As I made my way down back to the tunnel behind the mirror, I was thinking of several things I could do to that fop. 'Perhaps lure him onstage and drop some scenery on him', I thought gleefully, 'or cause a cart to run over him.' I fondly stroked the Punjab Lasso tied to my belt. And those two dumb asses who were my managers; I could certainly do something to them! I undid the lock to Carlotta's dressing room. Immediately those two rats they called dogs started yipping and barking their heads off.

I whirled around and snarled back at them. They whimpered fearfully, slinking away to a corner of the room. I smirked unpleasantly. I unlatched the mirror, stepping once more into my world, and latched it behind me. My boots made an echo as I walked briskly down the tunnel. I needed to clear my thoughts.

I poled the boat into the lair, and jumped off as it nosed into the harbor. I tied it off, then, pulling off my cloak and throwing it to the ground, strode to my organ. I sat down and began to play furiously, playing no particular piece, no particular composer. My fingers ran over the keys like someone possessed.

I tried to drive what I had seen on the roof out of my mind, but one line of the song they'd sung kept surfacing:

"Say you'll share with

One love, one lifetime.

Say the word and I will follow you.

Say you'll share with me

Each night, each morning.

Say you love me

You know, I do.

Love me

That's all I ask of you."

I let out an angry yell, and banged my fists on the keys, making a terrible noise.

"Why, God?" I shouted at the cavern's ceiling. "Why did you curse me with this face? Answer me!"

Silence.

I groaned in anguish and stood up. I walked past the grotto that held the life-size mannequin of Christine in a wedding dress. I slowed down and looked back at it. I had created it down to the last detail, from her luxurious brown curls, to the tiny mole on her collar bone. Sometimes, I'd find myself talking to it, telling it my darkest secrets. Then, I'd pretend she would answer back. The expression I had fixed on her face was one of adoration and love.

"You wouldn't look at me like that now, would you?" I addressed it bitterly. "You would only look at your Raoul like that."

It did not answer; I didn't expect it to. I sighed, turned and shuffled slowly into my bedroom. I began to strip, but the sight of my bed stopped me.

Was it only last night, early this morning that she was asleep in my bed? Was it only last night that I held her under the thrall of my voice, that I brought her down to my world? My body ached as I recalled holding her against me, feeling her melt as my hands touched her stomach and traveled upward. I remembered her hand on the unmasked part of my face as she trembled in my arms.

'Perhaps I shouldn't have.' I thought as I unbuttoned my shirt and stepped out of my trousers. 'Perhaps I should have waited until she was ready.'

_But you were ready. _My inner voice argued. _You were ready for her._

True. I had acted out of my love, my passion for her, when I should have waited. I sighed, pulled back the sheets, and crawled into the bed. Lord of Mercy, her scent was everywhere; on my pillows, on my sheets. I felt my desire mount higher inside me. How many times did I dream of Christine lying next to me, her skin glistening with sweat, her hair spread across the pillow in waves, her breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath? I had imagined many a night our bodies wrapped in passion, crimson sheets entwining around us, our moans and cries in perfect harmony. God, would I ever not desire her? Only He knew the answer to that.

It took a while for sleep to come, and, for some strange reason, I didn't take off my mask.

Yahoo! First chapter's done! Chapter Two is coming soon! I live on reviews!

Finished 3/28/2005 1:29 PM.


	2. Chapter Two

**Solitude: the Beginning of Madness**

**By**

**Ggunsailor**

**Chapter Two**

**Hi guys! Well, here we are: chapter two! I hope you guys liked reading the first chapter as much as I LOVED writing it. **

**Now, in this chapter, I'll shed a little light on Erik's relationship with Madame Giry. In my opinion, it's like the love a brother has for his sister, and like a child for his mother. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom.**

**Rated M for sexual scenes, content and references, so if you're underage, turn back now, or you'll be past the point of no return! ****J**

**Feedback: yes please! Good reviews, bad ones, ideas and flames; I take 'em all**

**Based on the movie**

The next morning, I awoke from a dreamless sleep, feeling the cold of the cavern seep into my bones. My rage from last night had disappeared, leaving only thoughts of how I would win her back...and I would.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, then sat up and stretched. Strange enough, my mask hadn't fallen off. I had some pent-up energy from the previous night, and I needed to burn it off. Nothing a little exercise wouldn't cure...

A few minutes later, dressed, I strode into the exercise room. On the walls were many weapons I'd collected over the years; knives of different shapes and sizes, of course, Punjab Lassoes (one with weights attached), and swords. Fencing rapiers, broadswords, Arabian scimitars, even a Japanese katana, a samurai sword, and a couple of staffs. If there was one thing I didn't believe in, it was growing fat round my middle. I took the katana from the wall, and began to do the forms I had learned from a book long ago.

I ran through part of my routine, and had come to my fencing. I had drawn the sword with the grinning skull hilt that had been specially made for me, when I heard "Would you need a partner?" I turned and saw my true friend, my savior.

Madame Giry, for it was she, had dressed in a men's shirt and breeches; much easier for her to come down here in than the lack dress she normally wore.

"I knew I would find you here."

"You know me too well, Antoinette. Grab a sword and take your position." She did just that.

With her dancer's grace, she was an excellent partner. Although she was older than me, we were evenly matched. For some reason, I fought fiercer than I normally did; taking every advantage I could, because an idea was coming to me.

With a loud war cry, I lunged. She jumped out of the way and I fell to the ground. I turned onto my back, and found the tip of her blade pressed to my throat.

"Is this a draw, monsieur?" Her smile was challenging, yet kind.

"So it would seem, Madame."

She drew the blade away and helped me stand, putting our swords away.

We walked from the room, an unbearable silence between us. As we walked into the main room, she finally spoke.

"They took Buquet's body away after the performance. He was already stinking."

"I hope the worms leave nothing left." I growled. Turning away from her, I strode to my model of the Opera Populaire, sitting at my desk. I took a sheet of paper, dipped my pen into the inkwell, and began a letter.

"Erik."

Damn, she was the only one who called me by that name. I tried to ignore her and continue writing.

"Erik, look at me." I did so. "I'm worried about you, about Christine."

I laughed bitterly. "Why? She has her darling Viscount to look after her."

She looked at me in surprise and asked "What do you mean?" I told her of what I saw on the roof.

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God. I…I didn't know. I had no idea."

"What is there to know? She loves him, Antoinette…and SHE BETRAYED ME!" I roared, leaping up from my chair. "Was it not I who taught her everything she knows? Didn't I give her a voice that made those two imbeciles cast her and cause that cursed _fop_ to--"

"Erik, calm down. Someone might hear—"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMNED SHIT! LET THEM HEAR ME!"

I stopped ranting, and turned away from Antoinette. Tears coursed their way down my cheeks as I sang the words that last night described the mournful feelings in my heart:

"He was bound to love

To love her

When he heard her sing.

Christine…."

I fell to my knees and began sobbing uncontrollably, giving vent to my feelings. There were no words from Madame Giry. Suddenly, I felt arms around my shoulders. I turned and saw her green eyes filled with compassion. I buried my face, my un-masked face, into her shoulder and continued to sob.

She held gently, like a mother with her child; stroking my hair, and murmuring comforting words. She had done this once before, when she had saved me. I'd had a terrible nightmare, and she comforted me, even stayed with me until I went back to sleep.

We stayed like that for a while, as I cried all the poison out of my system. I sniffled, then stood up and went back to my desk. I finished the letter, then turned to her.

"Do you have a meeting with Andre and Firmin today?"

She nodded. "Along with Carlotta and Piangi, the Viscount and…Christine."

I turned back and placed the letter in one of my specially-made black-rimmed envelopes, sealing it. The crimson skull seemed to be grinning mockingly at me as I held the letter in the hand.

"When there is a lull in the conversation, I will slip this under the door. If no one offers to read it, you will."

"All right. Just curious, my friend, what are you planning on doing?"

"I think I'll lay low…for a while. Until then, care to join me for some breakfast?"

"Oh, why not?"

I kept to the shadows as I made my way to the managers' office. I had dressed simply for this errand; black shirt and breeches. I chose not to wear my cloak, for it would have caught on something.

"I NO CARE! I'm not staying here! You saw what happened last night!" Ah, Carlotta sounded truly angry. Good.

"But, Signora!" Firmin's deep voice pleaded with her. "We only put Miss Daae in your place because you were, err--"

"Indisposed." Andre's slightly squeaky voice finished. I had to put my hands over my ears, but I could still hear her angry screech.

"INDISPOSED! YOU CALL HUMILIATING MYSELF IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE AUDIENCE INDISPOSED!"

" Mi amore, please calm down!" Piangi.

"Certainly after last night, you no longer doubt the Opera Ghost's existence, messrs." I could have kissed Madame Giry for that.

"There's no doubt in my mind, Madame." Andre answered. "And what we saw last night proves it." I heard him shudder. "Poor Buquet."

"Don't feel any sympathy for him, Monsieur." Grr, curse that damned Raoul. "From what I understand, he wasn't well-liked by many of the stagehands, and they were glad he's gone." I shared their happiness.

"It was _you_, wasn't it?" Who was that squawk directed at?

"What?" That was Christine.

"You switched my throat spray! It figures, since you're the Phantom's little ingénue! Why, you little—"

"Signora, I was just as surprised as you were."

How dare she accuse my Christine! I felt like bursting in there and killing that Italian bitch! I almost did just that, when I heard Raoul growl "You will keep your accusations to yourself, Signora." I had to admit, that remark got the whole room quiet.

I took that moment to slip the letter under the door, Carlotta screeching in alarm.

"Look, look! It's another one!"

I waited. It seemed no one wanted to touch it. Then, Giry's voice spoke.

"I shall read it."

There were a few moments' silence, and then Piangi inquired "What does it say?"

Mme. Giry cleared her throat then began to read:

"Greetings to all.

Forgive me for my behavior last night. I was not in a good humor. Give my deepest apologies to Signora Giudicelli.

I shall no longer send notes of the threatening nature. Rather, they shall be notices of what is going on in _my_ opera house, things that I will bring to your attention. Although, I hope you have learned your lesson in disobeying my orders, and have learned of the gruesome consequences that might follow. However, enclosed in this envelope is the appropriate fee for monsieur Buquet's funeral. I believe it is the correct amount.

If you have questions regarding this arrangement, please give your letters to Mme. Giry.

I remain your obedient servant,

O.G

P.S. I will shorten my salary to ten thousand francs. You will give it to Mme. Giry."

The room became silent once more; as they let what I'd written sink in. For a while, no one said anything. Then, Andre spoke.

"He sounds almost...civil. Like a gentleman." I had to smile at that.

I heard Piangi snort. "Hmph! He wouldn't know civil unless it bit him on the ass." I had to restrain myself from smashing down the door. 'Calm down,' I told myself ', you can exact revenge later.'

"How we know he's not lying? How we know he's not going to come in the middle of the night, and murder us in our beds?" Carlotta squawked fearfully.

Hmm, there was an idea.

Then, to everyone's surprise, including my own, Christine spoke up.

"I think he might be telling the truth. I mean, who are we to know what goes on in his mind?" That's my girl.

"I believe you're right, mademoiselle." Firmin answered. "I suppose we should do as he says, for now." Then he mused "Though I wonder how long he will keep his end of the deal."

I felt a grin of accomplishment split my features. Without those managers, or Carlotta and Piangi, and especially that Viscount poking their nose where they didn't belong, I would have time to formulate my revenge!

I had to jump back into the shadows when the knob turned for two reasons. One; the leg I was leaning on was falling asleep, and two; I didn't want them to see I had been listening.

Carlotta and Piangi came out of the office, followed by Andre, Firmin, and Madame Giry as they went to into the Grand Foyer. Then, I saw _her_. And she looked more beautiful than ever. "Christine." I whispered, momentarily forgetting myself at the sight of my love.

She must have heard me, for her head whipped around to search for me. Our eyes met, and I could have sworn that her brown orbs lit up when they did. Our gaze shared a million thoughts of our want, our desire, our lust, and our love for each other. At that moment, I knew that I had her heart, and she had mine.

Then, I saw _him_ touch her shoulder. He asked her if she was all right. She seemed to shake herself out of her reverie, and then she smiled reassuringly at him. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

'Bastard! Keep your greasy lips off of her!' I wanted to strangle him!

As he led her off, she cast one mournful glance at me. "Angel..." she mouthed. I felt my heart break in two. Tears fell from my eyes as I turned and walked away, knowing that I had the comfort of alcohol waiting for me.

It would help me forget…

**Yay! Second chapter is done!**

**Finished 3/30/2005 8:10 PM **


	3. Chapter Three

**Solitude: the Beginning of Madness**

**By**

**Ggunsailor**

**Chapter Three**

**YAHOO! PHANTOM came on TUESDAY! I'm so happy!**

**This chapter will focus on the desire and love Erik feels for Christine. Also, I'll shed some light on Christine's feelings for our dear Phantom. I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom.**

**Note: Based on the movie.**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

I took a pull at the bottle clenched in my hand, letting the effect of the whiskey fog my senses. What I saw this morning was disappearing in the haze of the liquor, except for one part, which had burned itself into my memory.

She knew I was there; she heard my voice saying her name, and our eyes met. She probably could sense my presence during the meeting; that perhaps was why she said what she said. I let out a mournful sigh.

"Drinking won't solve anything. All you end up with is a feeling like there's a little man in your head pounding your brain with a sledgehammer." I didn't need this, not now. Especially from Mme. Giry, of all people.

"If you are here to scold me, then I suggest you leave. _Now_." I said in a low, dangerous tone of voice. I heard her come closer, until she was five feet away from my chair. "Erik-" she began.

"You know, I have half a mind to snap your neck!" I felt my anger boiling in my veins, and my blood was getting hotter by the minute.

"This 'Opera Ghost' charade has to stop. These games have gone on too long. Someone will get killed."

"Madame, I am the master of my fate and life. I control my own destiny, no one else's." I turned to face her. "I don't need advice from an old woman who hasn't the decency to mind her own business."

She bristled slightly. "If it were not for this 'old woman', as you so bluntly put it, you would be rotting in a jail cell by now." She softened. "I care about you, Erik. It was you who recommended, well, threatened, to the managers that I take over from Madame Jerauld."

"Get out."

"Erik, please."

I leapt up and threw the half-empty bottle at her. She ducked as it flew past her and smashed on the wall, whiskey and glass flying everywhere.

"GET OUT!" I screamed. In my rage, my mask fell off, and I could tell it frightened her. I watched as she turned and ran back the way she came, the sound of her shoes hitting the ground fading way.

I sat back in my chair and put my face in my hands, regretting what I had done. 'I shouldn't have yelled at her like that. She's right; I'd be rotting in a cell, maybe I'd even be dead if it hadn't been for her.' She had been my friend and confidant for so long, she was almost like a sister to me; I had no right to treat her like bullshit.

Suddenly, my sensitive hearing picked up the sound of chatter, which seemed to be coming from the girls' ballet dorm. I could distinctively hear the words "handsome" and "Christine". I got up. What the hell were they talking about that had to do with Christine?

I had to know.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"Where's Christine?"

"You didn't hear? She's out to dinner with that Viscount of hers."

"The Viscount de Chagny?"

"That's the one."

"Really? Oh, he's so handsome!"

Those were the remarks I heard as I came up to the secret passage behind the dormitory. I kept silent, although there were only two girls, so I could what they were saying.

"You know, he didn't even know she existed until _Hannibal_."

"They were childhood friends, weren't they? Meg Giry was saying something about that."

"Yes, but they hadn't seen each other since Christine's father died."

"Well, he's very enamored of her. Did you see the flowers he sent her?"

"Yes, they're beautiful."

The door opened and I heard one of the girls exclaim "Ah, here's the very girl in question. Where on Earth have you been? It doesn't take that long to go to dinner."

"That is for me to know, and you to find out, Marie." I had snicker quietly to myself at her tone of voice.

"Fine, be that way. Come on, Colette. Let's leave her alone with her romantic thoughts of love. Good night, Christine. Sleep well."

"Good night." The door shut with a click.

She suddenly became visible as she stepped into view of my vantage point. She was smiling dreamily and fingering a necklace of some sort. 'Probably something from her precious Raoul.' I thought. She let out a sigh and leaned against a bedpost. When she caught sight of the mirror, her smile slowly faded.

She walked forward and touched the face, running her fingertips down the glass. She was singing quietly, but I could discern very, very softly:

"Flattering child

You shall know me

See why in shadow

I hide.

Look at your face

In the mirror

I am there

Inside…"

That was the song I sang when I first appeared to her. I still remember the look I saw on her face. It was one of wonder and ecstasy; the realization that her Angel was real. She confirmed it when I took her hand and guided her through the mirror. I remember her gasp of delight as I smiled at her.

I could see her eyes shining with...some kind of emotion. She turned away and walked to her bed, kicking off her shoes and pulling off her coat. She wore a sheer blue dress, so sheer I could almost see the white satin corset. It clung tightly to her form, accentuating her curves and making her more sensual than ever.

I felt my loins tightening as she began to unlace her dress. 'Oh, God.' The clothing pooled at her feet, and in the light of the full moon, her heart-shaped face seemed to glow.

She looked back at the mirror, and a change came over her. She very slowly began to strip, taking off her stockings. She ran her hands slowly down her legs, squeezing her thighs. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. My eyes were drawn to her. Then, her corset fell to the floor, and I caught my breath. 'Oh…she's beautiful.'

I watched as her hands very slowly went up to her breasts, and began pinching her swollen nipples. The moans that came from her intoxicated me and were more beautiful than anything I'd ever heard. Her eyes were slanted lustfully, and her lips were parted, glistening wetly from running her tongue over them. She lay back on her bed and continued touching herself, her gasps and moans reaching a volume that made my already hot blood boil even more. I felt my own hands going to the front of my trousers.

Then, I saw one of her hands slip towards the patch of brown curls at the base of her belly, and the heat in my loins became more intense. Her hand slipped between her legs. The sounds coming from her intensified so much I was afraid someone would hear her. But no one had burst in...Yet.

One thought kept going through my mind: what person had caused her to do this? Who had the effect that made her perform this act of passion?

Suddenly she froze up, threw her head back and cried out, an expression of pure ecstasy. The silvery light of the moon caused the beads of sweat glitter like diamonds, making her seem like a long-lost forgotten goddess of passion. My love, my desire for her grew stronger at the sight.

She sat up quickly, the expression on her face changed to shame. She leapt up, grabbed & pulled on a robe, and ran out of the room. I knew where she was going as I followed her through the many passageways; the chapel.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Surprisingly, Christine got there before I did.

He face was flushed from running as she knelt and crossed herself. I stayed out of sight and listened to her confession.

"Father in heaven, forgive me, for I have sinned. I'm torn, God." Torn? "I'm torn between what my head says and what my heart says." I nearly fainted at what she said next.

"Lord, my head says that the Phantom is sick and twisted, he'll kill without thinking about the consequences to get what he wants; Raoul is the right choice. But-" she took a deep breath. "My heart tells me that _he_ is the only one. The only one who can touch me..._He_ is the only one who can love me." Her voice began to tremble.

"I love _him_ and want _him _so much, I imagine _his_ hands when I touch myself. _His_ _voice_ is pure desire, and makes my heart soar. My soul goes to heaven and back when I'm near him, and I crave _his_ touch. I-I love the Phantom of the Opera, and I want _him_ so—" She broke down and began to cry, putting her face in her hands.

I didn't fell the tears running down my already moist cheeks. I didn't feel my feet hitting the ground as I ran back. I couldn't even feel the headache from the whiskey.

I felt numb. Cold. Alone.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Yahoo! Chapter Three is done! Chapter 4 will be up soon!**

**Finished 4/23/2005 1:56 PM**


	4. Chapter Four

Solitude: The Beginning of Madness

Chapter Four

By

Ggunsailor

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SOOO LONG TO UPDATE!

But it's been really hectic, what with school finals, and me being on computer restriction because of my grades. But I did write this chapter over that time, so here it is! I'll have a Narnia story out soon called "Further Redemption". Go read it as soon as I get the first chapter up!

Okay, I'm gonna answer some questions some of you asked me.

DarogaDaae: At the time, Erik is inebriated (drunk), so his feelings are kind of out of whack. Plus, it sounded good at the time when I wrote it. I'm glad you like it, though!

Provocateur: I'm a Catholic myself, and I agree with you. When I wrote the chapter, I was at a retreat, and the idea came to me then. Plus, "dumbasses" are the only colorful insult I could think of at the time without getting in too much trouble. But thank you for saying you like it!

On with Chapter Four!

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom.

Note: Based on the movie.

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I have no idea how I got to sleep. I do know that I woke up the next morning with my head throbbing like the devil. However, the pain in my heart felt like a hot knife being stabbed straight through. I got up from my bed, trying to ignore the feeling that my head was made of stone. Normally, I'm not a very heavy drinker, but last night was an exception.

_I-I love the Phantom of the Opera, and I want him so…_

"Damn it." I whispered softly as I leaned against the entrance to my bedroom. Those words were buried into my memory. I would never forget the sight of her flushed face as she knelt before the altar. Then, I was jolted out of my reverie as I heard a scolding voice.

"Didn't I tell you? I bet you feel terrible, eh?" It was Mme. Giry.

"Terrible doesn't describe it." I groaned, turning my head slowly to face her. "It feels like my whole body has been cast in lead. I have no idea how much I drank."

"There's about four empty bottles out there."

"That explains my hangover the size of Notre Dame." I winced as the pain in my head got worse.

She raised a critical eyebrow at me, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice as she addressed me.

"I have some news that might be of interest to you."

I perked up considerably. "What is it?"

"First things first, get dressed, and I'll make something for that headache. Don't give me that look."

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Several minutes later I sat in my armchair sipping at a vile tasting tea that was terrible yet numbed the dull throbbing in my head.

"What's in this slop anyway?" I asked Antoinette as she sat down on a stool.

She smirked slightly and said "Chamomile. It's good for headaches. I also mixed a little raw egg in there." I started and almost spit it out, but I composed myself enough to; I am a gentleman after all.

I looked at her and said "What is this news you have for me?"

"Andre and Firmin have decided to hold—well, it's a little silly."

"What?"

"They're going to hold a talent show."

"_Excuse me_?"

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"That's right. In light of the recent, uh, events, we have decided to hold a talent show." Andre finished, a huge, triumphant smile on his face as he watched the dancers and crew on the stage, waiting for applause for the magnificence of their managers' splendid idea.

There was quiet, absolute quiet.

I sat in Box Five, out of sight and laughing quietly. They all seemed to think their managers had hit their heads that morning, and lost their minds. Firmin noticed this and assured them.

"Ah, don't worry. This idea is completely sane-I mean good!" There were a couple of snickers from the group on stage. He shot whoever they were a nasty glare, and then continued.

"Right, I know this idea may seem silly, but we-Andre and myself, that is-would like to see if there might be new talent we could use around here. We have already sent out notices to every town in this province, calling all artistes and performers to our theater."

'Hmm,' I thought ', now that's impressive.'

"What's in it for us?" One of the male dancers inquired. I had to agree with him.

"Good, I'm glad you asked that. The first prize is—"He paused for effect "—two hundred and fifty thousand francs!" Gasps of astonishment, and then loud cheers rang through the theater.

I laughed to myself. Only the offer of a cash prize would be enough to entice them to enter. Andre waited until the cheering died down then continued.

"Now, we do have registration forms." He produced a sheet of paper. "They are outside the manager's office. They must be submitted, along with a three franc entrance fee, by this evening or tomorrow morning. Thank you for your time and attention, and May the best man win!"

Both managers made their way off the stage, and the dancers, actors, and stage-crew began talking excitedly amongst themselves. I stood up from my seat, and left. No one in the hallway heard or saw me. Already, a plan was entering my mind.

And I had those imbeciles to thank for inspiration.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Erik, I know I have probably mentioned it several times, but I'll say it again: Have you lost your mind?"

I looked at Antoinette standing in my doorway as I rifled through my closet to look for a disguise. I explained as I finally found what I was looking for.

"It will be a good way to keep an eye on Christine…and that Viscount." I walked behind my dressing screen, remarking "Besides, the cash prize is too much to resist." As I dressed, I questioned "Speaking of Christine, what is she doing for this event?"

"She's a judge." Madame Giry answered as she sat on the edge of my bed. "The Viscount is one, too."

"And you?"

"I am as well."

I stepped out from behind my screen. "Well, what do you think?

I had dressed in a red silk shirt with a black velvet vest and trousers. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you look very dashing, but I still do not see where this is going."

I chuckled as I walked over to my dresser. Opening a jar, I dipped my fingers into the bronze-colored goop. I had used this before, and it was very easy to remove. As I began to rub it onto the un-masked part of my face, I reminded her "You've forgotten that I've been here for a long time. I have learned how to be seen, but unseen."

After rubbing it onto my arms and hands, I slipped a gold hoop onto my right ear (a gypsy had pierced them a long time ago, I don't know why), and penciled on a thin, curling mustache. I took off my mask and, turning so she wouldn't see my face, I took a bright orange scarf and bound it so it would hide my disfigurement, but I could still see.When I turned to Antoinette, I knew she was impressed. I grinned and declared:

"Meet Nadir, the Gypsy Wizard!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yay! It's done! I am so good!

Chapter Five will soon follow!

Finished 10/27/2005 3:17 PM


	5. Chapter 5

**Solitude: the Beginning of Madness**

**Chapter Five**

**By**

**Ggunsailor**

**

* * *

****Hi there! Well, here comes Chapter Five!**

**I'm going to answer some comments that some of you left.**

**EriksTrueAngel: Yes indeed; I myself laughed when I wrote that chapter. I love writing Andre and Firmin; they're so funny to write for. I had thought about adding in Nadir as a character; but then I thought Erik has been at the opera since he was little, so he would have learned how to create his own characters to suit his purposes. I'm glad you like it! **

**DarogaDaae: The reason I thought of the talent show is because only Erik would think of exploiting Andre and Firmin as being idiots and what better way to do it than having them to put on a talent show. Don't worry; it'll all come together in the next few chapters. The disguise I based off a costume I wear sometimes when I role-play.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom.**

**Rated M**

**Based on the movie**

* * *

I felt very sorry for Andre and Firmin. 

For the past two hours the next day, it was nothing but deplorable performer after performer. They'd already chosen the stage hands and dancers, and they were now selecting the artists and performers they had sent all the notices out fir. Some were excellent, and others…well. Let's just say that others deserved to have rotten fruit thrown at them…or dropped through a trap door.

At the time I chose to show up, a German woman was slaughtering the "Habanera" from _Carmen_. She made Carlotta sound like a songbird; she was terrible!! She hit all the wrong notes, and was completely off-key. Bizet would be foaming at the mouth to hear his masterpiece sung that way. Not that Carlotta did it any better, either.

"Ah, thank you! Thank you, Madame Hilda! Don't call us, we'll call you!" As the German flounced off the stage, all the judges breathed a sigh of relief. Firmin turned to Andre and said "If I hear anymore singing, I'll go mad."

Andre looked at him. "What?"

"I said if I hear another singer, I'll go mad!"

"Speak up; I can't hear you!"

"Well, take that damn cotton out of your ears first!" I had to laugh. 'Imbeciles. Complete imbeciles.' I thought. 'Well, time to make my entrance.'

I cleared my throat. All five judges turned to look at me. Firmin apparently was not very happy to see me; a vagrant in _his_ opera house. "If you're here looking for money, or here to enter—"

"Ah you have read my mind, señor. I _am_ here to enter." I dipped a little bow at the waist. "I hope there is a slot left for someone like me."

Raoul, who looked a little surprised, asked me "Who are you? What do you have to offer?" 'Oh if only you knew.' I thought (and wanted to say), but I answered "I am called Nadir, the Gypsy Wizard. I am a magician, actor, singer, and an excellent ventriloquist."

They looked at each other, and then Andre asked "Are you really a ventriloquist? I mean, you hardly look the part."

I held up the canvas bag I held my magic equipment in. "Perhaps I may honor you with a performance?"

"All right, but don't take too long."

I nodded my thanks. "_Gracias, S_eñor..."

"Andre. This is my partner Firmin and the Viscount de Chagny our patron, and these two ladies are Madame Giry, our ballet mistress, and Christine Daae."

I pretended to gasp in surprise. "No! You must be joking, señors. Surely not the same Daae who sang so wonderfully in _Hannibal_! I would be pleased to meet her!" Raoul grinned at my enthusiasm. "Well, you shall have that honor, sir." He motioned to Christine from where she was standing, observing the exchange with much interest.

'Beautiful as always.' I thought. I pretended to be taken aback.

"Surely this enchanting young lady cannot be Miss Daae! This little angel? From someone this lovely, without doubt she must have a voice to match!" I took her proffered hand and brushed my lips over her skin. "It is an honor to meet a beautiful artiste such as yourself, señorita."

She smiled graciously. "_Gracias, _Señor Nadir." I blinked in surprise.

"You speak Spanish, Señorita Daae?"

"Very well. My father taught me." Well, my little cherub had many talents.

"Oh, forgive me! I forgot about my little performance! Excuse me!" I picked up my bag and made my way onto the stage. I walked to the center. When I finished, I turned to face the judges who were sitting back down. Andre nodded to continue and I boomed:

"LADIES & GENTLEMEN! MESDAMES & MESSIEURS! Señors & Señoras!" After they took a moment to calm down, I lowered my voice somewhat. "What are you are about to witness has never been seen anywhere else; on any stage!"

I looked at Andre and asked "What shall I do señor? Shall I do some card tricks? Shall I disappear?" I grinned evilly. "Or shall I perform the 'Knife of Life and Death'?"

"What is that?" Firmin inquired.

I pulled a knife out from behind my back. "This." With that said, I plunged the collapsible blade into a hidden pouch under my shirt. Fake blood splashed out onto the stage as I cried out in agony, staggering backward. I gave one final cry and fell flat on my face onto the floor.

Horrified silence greeted my ears. Then Andre yelled "Someone fetch the doctor!" I snickered quietly to myself. 'Idiot'.

I sprang back up quickly. "No need to, señor. That was fake. See?" I undid the now empty pouch and held it up. I looked down at the slight splotch on the stage. "Though you may want to call a cleaner. Don't worry, the blood won't stain: I find that warm soapy water always works. And that was the Knife of Life and Death!"

They applauded and I bowed. Placing the knife back in the bag, I turned and asked "What shall I do now?"

"Whatever you feel up to." Firmin said. I thought for a moment, and then I knew. "Gentlemen, you wouldn't happen to have a handkerchief on you?"

Christine came and handed me hers. I thanked her with a wink and waited until she was back in her seat. "And now, I shall turn this dull, boring old white handkerchief into something different. Any particular color, señorita?"

She thought for a moment, and answered "Red, the same color as your shirt." 'The same tinge on your face the other night as well.' I thought to myself.

"Very well. On the count of three, I shall turn it red." I balled it up into my hand, secretly slipping into my sleeve and, moving my hands discretely behind my back, taking the other one from the other sleeve. "Here goes. One." I started shaking my fist as if I were rolling dice. "Two...three!" With a flick of my wrist, I flashed it out and held it up. "And, as you say here in France, _voila_!"

They gave me a standing ovation as I bowed. After that, I then said "Well, I think I better turn this from red back to white, _sí_?" Without waiting for them to answer, I balled it into my fist and shook it again. "To change it back, I must count in Spanish. Uno... dos... tres!" Using the slight of hand, I changed it back to white. I grinned widely at my audience. "Not bad, no?"

After handing it back to Christine, I said "Now, I did say I was a ventriloquist, didn't I? Shall I make something sing; one of the statues perhaps?"

"Yes." I turned to look at the Viscount.

"One of the statues on the balcony of Box Five; could you do that?" I glared at him, and then pretended to ponder his question. As I did, I closed my eyes and concentrated.

Soon, an ethereal voice began to ring through the theater. It was the same song I'd sung to Christine so long ago.

"Softly, deftly

Music shall caress you

Hear it

Feel it

Secretly possess you..."

As I sang, I saw Andre leap up and run to Box Five, Firmin, Raoul, and Madame Giry right behind him. Christine stayed where she was. She was gripping the edge of her seat, and her eyes widened in recognition. She knew who Nadir the Gypsy Wizard really was.

I put a finger to my lips for her to keep silent. A good thing she did too, for the others came running back, breathless with amazement. Raoul said eagerly "It was singing; the statue actually sang!"

I finished singing and bowed. "Well señors, do I get the job?" There were a few moments silence.

Then Firmin asked "When can you be at rehearsal tomorrow?"

* * *

Several minutes later, I was putting away my things back into the canvas bag. I thought I was alone, until I heard: 

"What in hell do you think you're doing?" I turned to see who'd spoken.

Christine stood there with her arms crossed, wearing an annoyed expression on her face. I had to admit; she looked cute that way.

"Señorita Daaé," I said as innocently as I could. ", I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't use that innocent act with me, monsieur."

"What 'act' are you implying?"

She walked forward from where she stood. Although I was taller than her, she only came up to my chin. She said in a haughty tone of voice "Only one man I know of can sing like that...Phantom."

I laughed. "So you figured out my disguise, mademoiselle. I must admit, I'm very impressed you could---" She put a finger to my lips to silence me. I felt a sexual spark between us as she touched the soft skin.

"One problem with you is that you talk too much." She still had a haughty tone, yet I could detect a hint of amusement in her voice. "I suppose you have a reason for doing this charade?"

I smirked. "Need you ask, Christine? It's a good way to keep an eye on this very absurd idea, also the cash prize is too much not to resist."

She raised an eyebrow. "There's something else, isn't there?" My aplomb was shaken.

"Wha-what do you mean?" I asked shakily.

"There's another reason; I can see it in your eyes."

'Because I love you!' I wanted to shout. "Because I..."

"Yes?" She moved closer; too close.

"Because I..." 'Say it, numbskull!' my conscience screamed at me. She moved closer & closer until her lips were almost touching mine. My arousal was now flaring hotter than a white flame. The scent of her own desire seemed to rise up.

"Yes?" She was trembling; so was I.

"I..." I couldn't stand it any longer; I had to kiss her! I leaned forward...she seemed to as well...

" Christine! Christine! Where are you?" Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!

I let out a frustrated groan, Christine gasping out "Raoul!" I turned away from her and growled "What I do and my reasons are my own business. You would be wise not to interfere." I started to walk away, but she said "Wait!" I turned my head towards her.

"Tonight is the night I first heard you."

"Really." Had it been so long?

" It wouldn't hurt if...perhaps you came and sung?" The tone of her voice was so tinged with hopefulness, I couldn't say no.

"Perhaps." I answered. Her smile that she gave me caused me to smile in return.

"You should smile like that more often." She commented. "You're very handsome when you do."

"Thank you."

We stood looking at each other.

Then I turned and left.

* * *

**Phew! Finally finished Chapter Five; Chapter Six will soon follow!**

**Finished 2/13/2007 10:35 a.m.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Solitude: the Beginning of Madness**

**By**

**Ggunsailor**

**Chapter Six**

* * *

**Here is Chapter Six. Chapter Seven will come soon.**

**Get this: in musical theatre class, we're studying Andrew Lloyd-Webber and his music. We've just finished with _CATS_, and now we're doing _Song & Dance. _Hee-hee! I love my teacher. Also, our class is performing _Once Upon A Mattress_ for our spring production. Yours truly is playing the king; a lovable, wench-chasing mute! We're studying _Phantom _next week; I'm so happy. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom. Also, I don't own the song that Erik sings; the original song belongs to Alan Menken and Stephen Sommers. I just tweaked the lyrics to work for the chapter.**

**Note: based on the movie.**

**Rated M.**

**This chapter contains romantic fluff!**

* * *

That night, I waited in my hiding place in the chapel. What she said about tonight stirred so many memories. 

I remember she was seven yrs old, and I was twenty. I'd just been walking, thinking about this and that, when I heard a voice, a child's voice, coming from the chapel. I tried to ignore it, but it was so full of sadness; so un-trained yet so sad. It called to me, beckoned me. What else could I do but follow?

I will never forget the sight that greeted me when I got there: a tiny girl kneeling in front of a picture, singing a hymn.

What touched me were the tears on her face as she begged her papa to send her the "Angel of Music". She broke down and began to cry.

Before I knew what I was doing, I started singing a lullaby, one I remembered a Gypsy mother sang to her little one. The way her face lit up at the sound of my voice, the sad eyes that now shone with happiness, and that happy smile that made me smile as well engraved itself into my memory. I have never forgotten it. I never will, 'til the day I die.

My reverie was broken as Christine walked in. She knelt & crossed herself, then lit a candle for her father. After she did, she clasped her hands and bowed her head. I kept silent as I came out of my hiding place until I stood behind her.

"Christine."

She looked up, and then turned around. Her smile warmed my heart. "I knew you would come."

"I always keep my promises, my dear. Something tells me you weren't praying. What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about the first time I heard you." She sighed. "It was so long ago, and it seems like..."

"Yesterday?" I offered.

She nodded, and then stood up. She dressed simply in a brown skirt, a white blouse, and a black vest. Even then she took my breath away. She turned to look back at her father's portrait. I came up behind her and looked over her shoulder at the picture. A handsome, brown-haired man smiled at us. It was very easy to see he was her father; they had the same joking smile, and the eyes that shone as if they knew a private joke we did not.

"You know, you would've liked him."

I looked at her. "Really?"

"Mmm-hmm." She grinned. "He loved music, especially violin concertos. Every night, before he became sick, I'd wake up hearing him play. He always said it helped him sleep. But he had a soft spot for opera, and every night, before I went to bed, he'd play the librettos and sing, and I would dance." She smiled wistfully. I couldn't help but ask her "What about your mother?"

"Well, I only knew about her from what my father said. She was from Norway, and she had a beautiful voice." She laughed suddenly. "Do you know she was the one who told my father about the Angel of Music? He said that she learned it from her father, and his father told him, and so on. She told papa that whenever a musician, singer, or dancer or composer or lyricist needed help, the Angel would come."

I slowly put my arms around her waist and whispered into her ear as she relaxed into me "And what did you think, my dear, when your father told you this?"

She sighed and said "It was just a story; something to help me sleep. But when Papa died, I wished that the Angel would come."

"And when he did?"

She turned in my arms to face me, Tears shone like diamonds in her eyes as she said "When I heard you, I knew the story was true. As you taught me, I thought of you not as an angel, but as a friend; you were stern, yet kind. As I grew older, I began to wish you were real. And when I saw you in the mirror the night of _Hannibal_, when you took my hand, I knew." She reached up and cupped my cheek. I closed my eyes and kissed her palm. "Oh, Christine." Suddenly I had an idea.

"My dear, have you ever seen Paris at night?"

* * *

It was slightly cold as we stepped out onto the roof. 

The gas lamps around the city cast the Parisian streets in a golden light. You could make out the dark hulks of Notre Dame and the Arc d' Triumphe against the star-strewn sky.

Christine gasped in amazement as she slowly walked out onto the roof.

"Oh! It's so...so-so beautiful!" I had to grin at her enthusiasm. She walked to the statue of the Minstrel, and stood there for a while; then she motioned for me to come. I walked over and sat down cross-legged at the base, and was surprised when she sat in my lap. She was shivering a little bit, so I wrapped my cloak around her and myself.

She asked "Why did you bring me up here?"

I answered "I often come up here and think. It's quiet up here, and the view is marvelous."

There was a silence. Then she asked me "Will you sing for me?"

Of course I would sing for her. "What do you want me to sing?"

"Anything you feel like. I won't mind."

Anything, hmm? Well, there was something.

"So many times up here

I've watched a happy pair

Of lovers walking in the night

They had a kind of glow

Around them

It almost looked like

Heaven's Light.

I knew I'd never know

That warm and loving glow

Though I might wish

With all my might

No face as hideous

As my face

Was ever meant for

Heaven's Light."

I looked at Christine, staring into her liquid eyes as I sang the next verse.

"But suddenly an angel

Has smiled at me

And kissed my cheek

Without a trace of fright

I dare to dream that she

Might even care for me

And as I sit here with you tonight."

I pulled her close to me. She laid her cheek on my shoulder and sighed happily. I felt my body shaking with emotion as I sang with passion.

"My cold dark world

Seems so bright

I swear it must be

Heaven's Light!"

I have no idea how and when we went back to the chapel. I do remember I carried her, with her arms around my neck. I remember leaning against the wall, and her falling asleep in my arms.

Before I too succumbed to Morpheus' sweet embrace, I glanced at the picture of her father.

And I could have sworn Gustave Daaé was smiling at us.

* * *

**Everybody. 1, 2, 3: AWWWW!!!!**

**Chapter Seven is on the way.**

**Finished 2/15/2007 10:27 a.m.**


	7. Read me

To all my loyal readers and reviewers on ,

Currently this story is on a hiatus, because of my schoolwork and other things; also, I'm lost for inspiration on the next chapters or so. But don't worry, I will update them again!

In the meantime, you're welcome to check out my writing journal Quillstained on LiveJournal. The link for it will be on my profile.

Thank you all and have a good year!

Sincerely,

Ggunsailor

P.s. It doesn't mean I won't add another story for a while, so keep an eye out for that.

Cheers!


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